Forgive Me
by FineSummerDay
Summary: With a country in drought and nobles looking for his head, Zuko is both overwhelmingly grateful and constantly infuriated by a Katara who has no respect for the crown he wears. Apologizing is never easy, but, then again, neither is forgiveness. (Oneshot. Rated M for some foul language. Non-Korra AU.)


" _I ain't getting younger now  
_ _I'm fading like a setting sun  
_ _I ain't strong like I was when I was young  
_ _But for all the things I lost  
_ _There are a few things I gained  
_ _Most came between a rock and a hard place." – David Ramirez, "Rock and a Hard Place"_

* * *

Barrelling into Zuko's study holding a letter, Katara slammed her hand on his desk and spat out, "You really though you could not mention the fact you're denying aid to Kyoshi and expect me to not fucking _notice_?"

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose as he ground out, "You are an ambassador from the Water Tribe. The Fire Nations' agreement with a small island thousands of miles from either of us is of no concern to you, so I –"

"No concern? The first country who acknowledged you as Fire Lord is of no concern? The home of my brother and his wife is _of no concern?"_ As her voice grew in volume, the water began trembling in the glasses left behind from the previous meeting with the fire nation's peace council. "How can you say that to me? How can you think like that? How is it okay for you to—"

Abruptly, Zuko stood, yelling, "If there was anything we could spare, if there was a single grain that we did not need to make it through this Agni-forsaken drought, I would send it. You have to believe I would send it. But there is going to be nothing left of my people if I try to give handouts to everyone who –"

" _Handouts?_ Have you already forgotten who trained your security forces? Who forced the Earth Nation to accept the _shitty_ terms of that first treaty that you wrote? They are starving _now._ They were starving when this letter was sent. You still honestly believe that your people's lives are so much better than everyone else in this world because—" As she drew a breath, Katara's hands jerked open the cork of the water skin at her waist.

With deadly calmness, Zuko closed his eyes, kneading his forehead, "It is my job to care about my people's lives. If I have no people, I have no job. It is that simple, Katara." Opening his eyes, he beheld the instant her fingers twitched, and the water slithered from the pouch to hover mid-air.

"Put. That. Away." He ground out.

Locking eyes, she flicked the water whip above her head.

"No."

"I am not fighting you over this. "

"Well, I am fighting you over this."

Sitting back down, Zuko sighed deeply but maintained eye contact, "Then fight. Or leave. Or go help Kyoshi yourself. I don't care."

Katara's voice dropped dangerously low, streams of water lazily swirling around her, "Are you dismissing me?"

"Can I dismiss someone whose presence wasn't requested in the first place?"

Lips pursed, Katara regarded him with disgust before answering, "No. You cannot." Turning on her heel, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Breathing in deeply, Zuko realized too late the air had turned bone dry, causing his lungs to reject it. Beginning to cough, he reached for a glass only to find it dry as well. _Damn that woman_ , he thought, as the coughing worsened.

* * *

At the sound of knocking, Katara looked up from the trunk she was packing and called out, "Vykka, you don't have to knock every time, just bring in the…" She stopped short as Fire Lord entered her room, his expression stony. Crossing her arms, she asked, "Can I help you?"

Surveying the room strewn with half-packed cases, he gestured vaguely, "Not if you leave now."

Katara regarded him silently.

Reaching into the pocket of his robe, he pulled out a sheaf of papers, "This is the correspondence I've had from Suki."

Setting them on the bed, he leafed through as he pointed out, "And this is what she sent two weeks ago saying that she believed they could survive without the assistance promised in the Kyoshi-Fire treaty. And this, this is a list of the crown's reserves, and how much every city needs. There's not enough to spare."

Reaching for the loose pages on her desk, Katara set papyrus on top of his, "This is the correspondence from Suki to you from today, which I read, since you requested that I read incoming messenger hawks from leaders until we can figure out which of the secretaries is helping the Dai Lee."

Pointing, she continued, "This is where she says they can no longer survive. Which was the first I had heard of the crisis." She smiled sourly and set a single sheet on top. "And this is a list of landowners who are Kyoshi-sympathetic and might have enough reserves to spare. I'm packing now to visit each of them to request their assistance."

Silence settled between them.

The sound of knocking disturbed the silence, as Vykka timidly called out, "Lady Katara?"

Katara turned away from Zuko and resumed folding clothing as she responded, "Vykka, come in, and set those down in the corner."

The serving girl shuffled in, stopping wide-eyed when she beheld the Fire Lord.

"Don't pay any attention to him, Vykka," Katara chided, and then looking at him with a challenge in her eye, "He was apologizing." The girl set down the robe, still wide-eyed, and backed out of the room slowly.

Zuko sighed, "I'm apologizing?"

"Yes, you are."

Turning towards the window and gazing out towards the central garden, Zuko sighed again, "I thought you were leaving for good."

"And let you run this place into the ground? I think not."

Turning back towards her, his face composed, he swallowed and said, "I apologize for not sharing prior correspondence with you. And for not seeking your advice on possible solutions."

Katara's expression softened, and she took a step towards him, before faltering. Standing a few paces away, she said, "It's forgiven. Don't shut me out."

He studied her carefully.

"Anything else you'd like to say?" He asked.

She titled her head and pursed her lips. "Pretty sure I already apologized about the way I handled the wheat crisis last week. Not really looking to do it again."

"Is that all you're going to say?"

"It is. Now let me finish packing."

Turning to go, he looked over his shoulder, "Don't forget to come back."

A small, sad smile appeared on her face as she watched him leave: "I won't."

He paused and, seeing her eyes, believed her. "Good," he said, heading back to his study. It was enough. It had to be enough.


End file.
